Mother
by DsignG4
Summary: Marcus pays a visit to a Clairvoyant in down below and gets more than he bargained for. This is a sad, but rather charming piece with heavy overtones... touching, peopleon my lists said they cried, so Tisssue alert there.


Mother   
By DsignG4   
  


"You're a very hard person to find," he said as he dipped from behind the makeshift hangings that served as wall, then leaning against the solid metal frame of the doorway. "Considering how popular you are, seems people don't like to talk about you." His voice dripped of sarcasm. 

She looked on him annoyed, one eyebrow perched precariously high. "Why is that ya'think?" 

She was a plump middle-aged woman in maybe her late fifties with long dreadlocks and a flowing red kaftan. The small provisional room was amply decorated with draped fabrics and candles. A table behind held a statue of the Virgin Mary, various odd objects, some of which looked like bones, some dried plants and even more candles. He felt like he just walked into a church, which was precisely the problem. 

"You tell me. You're the one who is supposedly the... what is it you call yourself again?... a Seer? Sage? Or is it Shyster? I always get those mixed up." 

"Didn't your momma teach you that you don't come into someone's house and start calling them names?" She smiled a wide caustic smile, "And, you want The Mother," the woman said with a heavy hint of irritation. She crossed her arms and stared at him. "As far as I'm concerned, you're not gonna see her anytime soon, smartass." 

Marcus nodded. "The 'mother'?" He said it once just for effect. "And you would be...?" 

"Her granddaughter, Frieda," She said shooting him a look that made him straighten his stance. "No one sees Mother unless I say they do." 

"Well, fine, I'll talk to you then," he said leaning over in despite all the looks she gave, "I don't like soothsayers, or whatever you claim she is, down here if I can help it." 

"That's funny, I didn't see your name on this place, Mr..." she said waiting for him to introduce himself. 

"Doesn't matter who I am, does it?," He snapped evenly. 

"Well, who ever you are, .if the people want to pay her something for telling them something they need to hear, they can. We certainly could use it but neither of us ask for it. If someone tells you otherwise, they're lying. She does this because the it tells her to, because she wants to help." 

"Who tells her?" 

"If you have to ask." 

"Alright, I'll just say it. I like to keep the place on the straight and narrow the best I can. The road turns and widens a bit more here than I like. The people here have it hard enough without your KIND sapping their much needed resources," he hissed the word 'kind". 

"Is that so?," She said after what seemed to be a few minutes. She had a snide little smile on her lips. "You talked to folks to find this place, what did they say about her?" 

He decided not to answer that, as she was right, all the people he spoke to couldn't have spoken more highly. 

"Listen, if what I hear is true, she's more than old enough to settle down and retire as it is. I'm sure she'd like to relax and enjoy her remaining-" 

"She's never been sick a day in her life, not even so much as a cold!" she said angrily, "Believe me, I've tried to make her take it easy, but she can run circles around me. She does this because she wants to." 

"I can't have her operating here." He offered simply. "Normally, I'm pretty easy to get along with, but you'll find me most annoying if I have to keep coming back until I finally win out. Trust me. I always win." 

"Fine." She snipped, "You can decide if she should go then. I'll let you in. If you get done and think she is still a fake, I'll try to talk her into it, how's that for a deal?" She said curtly getting up quickly and disappearing behind a cloth wall. 

Marcus sat a second and then decided he was expected to follow. He pushed aside one of the walls and proceeded into another small sanctuary. 

She sat in an impressive tall back chair surrounded with candles of all sizes and shapes, their light almost giving her a golden aura so bright Marcus had to remind himself it was the effect they were going for. 

"You must be Mother," He stumbled over his tongue, he didn't know what else to say, he hadn't been expecting to find a woman like this. 

She looked to be every bit the 150 years old the rumors said her to be. So withered and bent he thought she would fit in his hand. Her face was leathery but intricate in it's array of deep grooves and fine lines that hinted her true age. Which he had to admit after seeing her, that the rumours could have easily been true. 

On her head a tall multi-colored turban wrapped in old African style. Her body covered in generous folds of stripe material that did little but emphasize her now tiny, fragile, bent frame. 

She'd once decades upon decades ago been beautiful. Marcus could tell that right off. Deep grooves now covered a fine shell with character only time could provide. Her face held a thousand points fascination for him; extraordinarily high cheekbones, long slender neck, square shoulders that age could not remove. Her skin was a dark polished mahogany, with two small eyes that once were dark brown were now occluded with white. 

She'd seen her share of most everything he figured in those congested eyes. But there was a shimmer of humour and wisdom in them the likes of which he's not seen in a long time. Regardless, as much as he liked the old woman right off, he couldn't have her here. It was the message, not the messenger, he was in opposition to. 

She nodded. "They call me that, been called Mother for so many years I don't rightly recall my real name without having to look it up," She laughed hoarsely. Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper with slight southern American twang. "Come, come so I can see you better," She asked. He obliged stepping into the light. 

"Mmmmm! Aren't you a handsome boy!" She grinned and patted the chair next to her. "Now, come sit next to me baby." 

His mood immediately lessened. "I'm hardly a boy, but promise you won't take advantage of me?" he teased smiling. 

"Oh, if I thought I still could baby... you'd be in trouble," she howled with silent rasp that you could hear course her frail crooked body as it shook while she laughed. She placed her hand to her throat rubbing it irritated. "Freida, get me a cup of tea will you dear? And one for our guest." 

His quickly interrupted, "None for me thank you, I won't be staying long," he said in his sweetest voice, but glared in return at the granddaughter as she left the room. "I have other pressing appointments I have to attend to in a bit." 

Frieda turned back to Mother and said something in a mumbled language he didn't not recognize, and left through one of the other draped doors. She returned a second later and delivered the cup, of steaming liquid. 

Giving him one more warning glance, she removed herself to the outside room through he draperies with a defiant swoosh of her skirts. 

Mother took a large sip and with a refreshed smack of her lips, "I hear you been looking for me." She said staring into the cup, then taking another long drink. 

"A bit yes, took some time. Your clients are very close-lipped." 

"People who need me, baby, know where to find me, you must not have needed me," She said with a lessened rasp than she had moments ago. 

Then she stopped, sat down her cup, and rubbed her chin with her crumbled ancient hand. She looked at him, her neck wobbling like it could barely hold the weight of her head. Her eyes, clouded with her great age, moved rapidly on him. "Or do you?" 

He said warmly. "Why am I here?" 

"You think I'm trying to sell something." 

"Yes I do." He replied truthfully, nodding once 

Her puckered face scowled at him displeased. Her toothless gums rubbing together out of irritation. She leaned slowly back in her chair, "I give them hope, baby. Just hope. Nothing bad about that. You could use some yourself." 

"Excuse me?" 

She took a another sip of tea and scooted deeper in her chair. "She said you were gonna be a tough one, gimme your hand honey, let's get this show on the road..." She said extending hers outwards to him, then sitting her head back and closing her eyes. 

Marcus rolled his eyes, and put his hand it he woman's silken palm. She stroked it gently for a few seconds. Her brow then furrowed as she looked to be concentrating. She nodded a few times. Marcus looked on not believing he was actually playing this game with her. 

Finally she spoke. "Who's the noisy one, baby?" She said rubbing her fingers over his with an exasperated sigh. 

Marcus rolled his eyes again, he knew it was coming sooner or later. "Whatever do you mean?" 

"Dark boy, noisy, just a yappin' away," she smiled, then giggled girlishly, "Hehehe, he likes to tell jokes too. Naughty ones.." 

Marcus felt his breathing deepen as he watched her. He wasn't going to fall for this. " I don't know, who do you think he is?" He challenged slowly. 

"William, he says, but not Willy. Not Willy, and don't you forget it, he says," She said waving a pointed finger at him accusingly, her eyes now clapped shut. "Says it wasn't your fault. And that you need to get over it. 'Move on already', he says." 

Marcus instinctively yanked his hand away and jumped up, "What the hell is going on here?" 

"You're pretty, but not too bright are ya?" The diminutive woman snapped sarcastically, eyes still peacefully closed. "He says to 'sit down and shut up'," She said harshly then creaked open one eye playfully, "I'd listen to him for once if I were you, honey." 

Marcus's mouth snapped closed and he blankly stared. "But it's not possible that you-" 

"Shush now and gimme' your hand, I ain't done with you yet," She laughed softly offering out her hand once more. He sat again numbly at her side and placing his once again in hers. Feeling a bit more than dizzy now as a wash of confusion began to suffocate him. 

He was trying to fathom a thousand different theories on how she did this. He was of the school of 'obvious is too obvious'. There was always something more plausible then the clearly observable he found, but that thought pattern was at a loss right now to find one. 

"My, my, my, but you do have a lot of people here," She said shaking her head side to side a bit, rubbing his hand once more. "Too many... but they are all trying to tell me something. Something about a woman. You got a lady friend that you care for?" 

"No. No I don't," he lied. How to get did he get the hell out of here?, he wondered looking around. 

"Think harder, sugar, they are really yellin' up a storm about this woman of yours. She's there." 

"No one comes to mind at the moment," He fibbed quickly, wishing to end this whole fiasco as quickly as it began, this was way too uncomfortable. 

"You can't lie to me," she said with a sly smile, squeezing his hand far harder than he would have thought the woman could. "Very hard to know, isn't she? Real tough cookie, stubborn, right?" 

"Yes," He gasped out with out thinking. He felt his heart beating a path out of his chest. 

"It's all pride with her, isn't it? Time - it's just a matter of time with her. Don't worry, she sees, she'll come around and realize she-" 

She stopped, choking back a gasp, dropping his hand like it offended her. She shivered a bit, the opened her eyes, they were laced with tears, she leaned heavily on one arm of her large chair for support. "Oh dear lord," she sighed heavily wiping the tears from her eyes with curled, aged fingers. 

"What? Are you alright?" he said rushing to her side. When he touched her arm, she jumped slightly, then took him by the wrist and removed it softly. 

She smiled at him, "Oh, I'm fine, honey," she said with a grunt sitting up, "Just a little more tired than I thought," She said but didn't convince him. "All that yellin' are just a bit too much for me at my age is all." 

"I'll go get your granddaughter," He said quickly rising from his seat. 

She raised her hand and waved at him weakly, "Come here baby." She whispered crooking her finger to draw him closer. He knelt at her side and eked his head closer to her mouth to hear. 

She pressed her hands to his cheeks and drew him closer, and placed lips to his temple in a soft waivering kiss there. "You're a good man," She whispered patting his face motherly, a tear running down her wisened jowl. "Everyone knows that. You don't need to go and prove it." 

Marcus felt a overwhelming feeling of dread creep over him like a cold damp fog. He stood shakily staring at the ancient woman like she was the most alien creature he'd ever seen. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," He croaked out obediently. 

"Will you hand me my tea? My throat is dry," she said quickly changing topics. Marcus looked to see the cup was eight inches away from her hand, in dim comprehension he realized the woman was completely blind. 

He took her hand gently and led it to the cup. She picked it up shakily and drank. 

"I'll get Freida." He said shaken. 

=== 

He waited outside pacing, while Frieda saw to her. Finally the woman emerged. 

"Is she ok?" he asked. "I have connections, I can get her treated at medlab, no charge," He offered sincerely. 

The formerly formidable Frieda smiled warmly at him for the first time. "She'll be fine, she's not as young as she used to be..." she said with a smile at her joke. She sat down in the front room again. "What did she see?" 

"I don't know, she didn't say." He said playing with the neck of his shirt nervously. "I was hoping she told you." 

"In the forty years I've been taking care of her, she's never once told me. I wish she would." 

He reached into one pocket and placed a fifty-credit chit on the table across from her silently. He cleared his throat softly. "She's a wonderful lady. If she needs anything, anything at all, contact me. There's more where that came from." 

"I will, thank you, sir" she said , but in her voice he heard so much hesitancy it seemed to hold the room in a tight fist of tension. 

He nodded solemnly and stalked out, running his hand through his hair nervously. He was understandably shaken, thinking on the whole event when he heard foot steps rushing closer behind him. 

"Sir!" Frieda said dashing up to him. She placed a finger put to her lips to tell him to stay quiet as she gently pulled him by the arm to a corner a little farther up. 

"I didn't want her over hearing," she said looking down to the doorway where they lived. "I did hear her say one thing before she realized I came in." 

"Yes? What?" 

"Just as I walked in she was talking... to someone I couldn't see, you know... anyway, she said 'that woman will be the death of him'. I don't know what she meant exactly, but when I asked her what she said, she said she needed more tea. Mister, I haven't seen her that shook up after a reading, ever, I don't know what she saw but she didn't like it one bit." 

"Indeed." He said letting a thick exhale blow through his pursed lips. "Thank you, but if you excuse me, I, uhm, I think I could really use a drink right now. I think we could both use one, Care to join me?." 

" I can't, I have to get back. It's near her dinner time You have a nice day, Mister." 

He smiled slowly, "It's Marcus. And, you'll see me again."   


The End   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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